


i’m your venus (i’m your fire)

by polariis



Series: Requiem of the Goblyn Queen [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Clones, Emma/Scott is my otp but it’s really only a side here, Identity Issues, Multi, Overly Poetic Language, Resurrection, Sexual Tension, The Phoenix Force (Marvel), between Maddie and Logan lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-05 17:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polariis/pseuds/polariis
Summary: Madelyne Pryor is dead. But in the White Hot Room, where heaven and hell are one and the same, no one ever truly stays dead. She is ready to exact her revenge.Long live the Goblyn Queen and the Dark Phoenix.(title from “venus” by bananarama”)





	1. act I - the queen

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I just really like Maddie. She’s so underrated and I’m not a huge fan of everything Marvel has put her through. So have this half angst-fic, half tribute to Madelyne Pryor.

_It hurts._

When Madelyne Pryor awakens, fire blossoms in her heart. Her throat is scorching, like swallowing charcoal briquettes. A sharp ringing fills her ears, like a relentless alarm. Flames dance at her fingertips like leaves in the wind before sizzling away, leaving scorch marks on the wood below her. 

 

Why is she awake? 

 

Where is she? 

 

It’s so dark. 

 

Encapsulating her body is a small, box-like cage. The surfaces are plated with crimson velvet, with gold buttons lining the stitches. It smells of death, soil, and musty dark wood. As she takes a heaving, shuddering breath, she can barely move. Her limbs ache, and her stomach is apparently on a spin cycle, twisting violently. Bile rises in her throat; she takes a harsh swallow, blinking in distress. 

 

She cannot blink. 

 

Her eyelids are gone. Her  _eyes_ are gone.

 

In fact... Everything is gone. Because she’s a corpse. But she is still thinking, and she can still feel, and panic starts violently overtaking her senses. 

 

The ringing doesn’t stop. 

 

_**Yesss. Get up, Madelyne Pryor. You still have work to do for me.** _

 

_No... It’s not my time._

 

_Can’t you see.... I’m supposed to be dead?_

 

**_Not anymore. Rise, Madelyne. Rise for me and take your revenge, child of the Phoenix. From the ashes, who rises once again..._ **

 

No. No. No. 

 

Everything comes swarming back at once in a flurry of physicality. Suddenly, her heart beats again, her lungs start pumping out oxygen, her eyes blink the dust of the coffin out of her eyes, skin covers her bones and flesh. 

 

A fiery lust for blood starts to rise in her belly. But not now. Because she’s still six feet under, and unfortunately, buried coffins aren’t accommodated for people who are still alive.

 

And she can’t breathe. 

 

Everything around her her bursts into flames. The coffin, the dirt, her frame - golden light bathes her as the Phoenix Force tears away layers of dirt like it was nothing, her body floating out of the coffin. Tears start to bubble in the corners of her eyes and slide down her cheeks, salty puddles streaking down her skin. 

 

“Scott,” she moans, legs shaking violently. She drops to the dirt, knees buckling like an infant relearning how to walk. Why. Why. Why. 

 

Why? 

 

Because the Phoenix is life. The Phoenix is chaos. And it can feel her fury, and her heart has turned as black as coal. She is ready to exact her revenge, to bring it the death and destruction it so craves. Jean Grey is no longer to Phoenix - Madelyne is no longer Jean Grey. She is a carbon copy. And yet. 

 

Something more. 

 

“Scott,” she hisses, spitting out the name like venom this time. Yes, Scott. She still remembers. 

 

_If you leave, don’t expect us to be here when you get back, Scott._

 

Because she may have been his wife, but he was always fucking married to his work. The fucking X-Men, or X-Factor, or whatever they call themselves these days. They took her husband. And then they took her baby. And her.

 

The Phoenix fills her mind with images of Nate with Jean, but... He's older. Grizzled. His hair is grayed, and is not the same sweet-faced cherub she birthed, but she is still Nate Summers. Her child. Always and forever. Even so.

 

Jean smiles at him with something like maternal affection.

 

Madelyne’s blackened, broken heart burns.

 

”He’s not yours! He’s my child! He’s not... He’s my baby...” 

 

Just because Madelyne was a clone.

 

Just because she was test tube freak forced out into her body by Mister Sinister.

 

Just because Jean is her fucking predecessor.

 

_**Yes. We know. He’s yours, he’s ours... But she acts as if he were her own.** _

 

_**Go show her, Madelyne. Show them all. Exact your revenge... Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, child.** _

 

”Yes,” she whispers. Wings of fire sprout from her back, before hurtling her through the sky in a trail of flames, giving her flight a burst of speed. The Goblyn Queen and Dark Phoenix, born anew in the same vessel, rocket away from the X-Mansion. 

 

Inside the residence, life bustles. 

 

._—•.•—_.

 

”This is not good,” Hank McCoy whispers to himself, staring from a windowed enclave to the burnt patch of grass next to the large pit below Madelyne Pryor’s decimated tombstone. 

 

Truly, an understatement. 


	2. act II - the firebird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men attempt to figure out how to deal with their unique predicament. Jean laments, worlds apart.

McCoy’s lab was barren of human or mutant life, save for the containment pod with Quentin Quire’s suspended body or various trays of bacteria setting in the fridge. Bubbling tubes of punchy, neon liquid lined the cool metal tables, along with an assortment of medical tools, notebooks labeled various volumes of ‘Lab Notes’, pencils, and several empty stasis tubes with lime-green liquid inside. The clatter of shoes on the steel floor was not to be heard; it was entirely empty. 

 

A moment of silence stood in the air, heavy, before the blue-furred scientist burst into the room, breathing heaving and panicked. 

 

Which was odd, really. Because he had dealt with the Phoenix before. 

 

But was it? He knew its capabilities. All the more reason to be afraid of what he knew was awaiting him. Perhaps worse yet, the new host was not someone he was well acquainted with. He did not know anything about Madelyne Pryor. 

 

Or perhaps he did. He remembered being there when Madelyne unleashed her fury upon X-Factor, and he remembered the pain particularly well. Scott’s, mostly. But they had done what was necessary. Now the Goblyn Queen was dead, and Jean’s clone was gone. Forever. 

 

Well. He had assumed so. He had  _hoped_ so. But he spoke too soon for his own good. The hordes of demons of all ghoulish variety that had been unleashed on the city... He had no desire to experience that woman’s vengeance again. As well-meaning a person as she may had once been, she was a shell of her former self. Driven to madness by the hellspawn known as N’astirh. She may have been Scott’s wife, but she now had a deadly force living inside her: the Phoenix Force. Which meant that the other X-Men needed to hear the big news. 

 

He wondered how Scott and Jean would take it. After pondering on their reactions, he decided not to. 

 

._—•.•—_.

 

Various mutants gathered into the conference room, bustling and chattering - Dazzler, Psylocke, Storm, Nightcrawler, Chamber, both of the Wolverines, Cyclops, Magma, Ice-Man, Firestar, Polaris, Marvel Girl. They continued to pile into the room and seat themselves until all the official staff of the Lensherr-Xavier School for the Gifted were seated in a circle at the conference table, the discussion and gossip dying down. The X-Men are looked at expectantly at Hank, who nervously pushed his glasses up his cat-like snout, swallowing the lump of anxiety in his throat. 

 

“Err... I’m afraid I have some bad news, X-Men. I-It’s, um... Shall I say... An issue of dastardly cosmic proportion.” 

 

Absolute silence. A few awkward coughs. 

 

“U-um... Well... Madelyne Pryor’s body is missing. And I have detected. Um. The Phoenix Force’s energy on an intergalactic radar.” 

 

The silence erupted into shouting, chaos, and shock. Cyclops immediately buried his head in his arms, mumbling to himself about something. Marvel Girl’s eyes popped out almost comically wide, eyebrows furrowed in one big fucked-over cocktail of utter shock and despair. He hadn’t expected the news to land well, but he had not foreseen such chaos to come from it. Things such as the Phoenix Force could spring even the world’s mature protectors into utter disorder, he supposed. 

 

Eventually, the chaos died down, everyone now with their anxiety turned up to about 11 on a dial. You could have heard a pin drop with the absolute silence.

 

”... So what are we going to?” Magik quietly asked, her face contorted into an unreadable, cold expression. 

 

“What do you bloody think we’re going to do? We put the Phoenix - and the Goblyn Queen - out of their misery,” Psylocke scoffed, her eyes shimmering a menacing purple. 

 

As the other X-Men continued to lament over their new problem, Jean stayed silent, eyes pinned to her feet. 

 

_Why?_

 

_Not again._

 

_This is some kind of purgatory. I could have saved her. But I didn’t. Why didn’t I try._

 

Jean remembered Madelyne. How frighteningly similar Scott’s wife had looked to her, when she peered at his photos of her. When she became the ruthless Goblyn Queen. And yet... She could feel everything Madelyne felt. Every ounce of her pain. The hurt weighing down her black soul like a dumbbell. 

 

The pain... It was overwhelming. Never had Jean felt like she was going to burst so horribly. 

 

She had felt like an imposter on everything; Madelyne’s husband. Madelyne’s son. Yet... Madelyne was just a clone, wasn’t she? Jean was her genetic base, her antecedent. Didn’t that make Nate more her son than anything? Besides... She was long gone after she became that demon queen. 

 

How did Scott feel about all this? She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. His heart in her mind sounded like it was going to shatter like a glass vase toppled like an uncouth child. 

 

Being in such a situation as him - she couldn’t hope to understand. Besides, it wasn’t her job to anymore; he didn’t love her now. Not these days. She supposed he was happy with Emma. She hoped he was. 

 

God knew he deserved it these days. 

 

Part of her still yearned for what they had... Most of her knew it was wrong. Emma and Scott’s love may have been born from an affair, but it was love nevertheless. She hadn’t been there for him. They had both moved on. It was never going to work. Besides... 

 

... Jean seemed incapable of staying alive as long as she loved him. The Phoenix, again and again, life and death. Chaos returning to order. 

 

Was that why it went after Madelyne instead? Seeking a new host. One it could start over in, yet with all the same psionic potential as the original model. 

 

The perfect new vessel. To kill and be killed, as was the way of the Phoenix Force. It was chaos, because that was what life was. There was no way to contain or control it, because you could not contain or control life. It was simply a fruitless task. 

 

“You want to know how to kill the Phoenix?” she suddenly interjected, eyes glued to the distance.

 

Every person in the room suddenly whipped their head towards her. 

 

“It wants energy. Give it to the Phoenix.” 

 

It was all she could do. She had no interest in stopping the Phoenix again. There was too much pain behind it. 

 

Never again. 

 

And so, she left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, Jean is actually a good person - I just wanted her to be a little naïve about the whole thing, cause she can’t really understand yknow


	3. act III - the hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phoenix is temperamental. It needs energy to burn, to spread its chaos. 
> 
> And yet, somehow, its original host had longed for someone who could not provide - she had longed for a certain someone with adamantium claws.

The news that Madelyne Pryor was alive was less of a shock than a harbinger of certain doom. The Phoenix Force was a creature of chaos, and its methods and intentions were usually uncertain at best. 

 

Logan knew that. He knew it better than anyone, except for Jean and Scott. Because once upon a time, he had loved Jeannie, but he couldn’t pull his punches. Jean with the Phoenix Force could either be a force of harmony and light, or she could kill billions of people like she had before. The X-Men could not take the chance that she wouldn’t do the latter. And every time, Logan was there; because he was the best there is at what he did. And every time, a little bit more of him felt like it burned away, like chipped paint. 

 

Jean and Logan could never work. But they both wished it could. 

 

Once. 

 

But Logan had been there when  _she_ came, too. 

 

Madelyne Pryor. 

 

She had smelled like his Jeannie. She looked like his Jeannie. But something was off. Because she wasn’t Jean - it wasn’t possible. And just like Jean, she loved Scott, and never Logan. Because maybe part of being a Wolverine was never truly getting what you wanted. Laura had made her happiness, but Logan’s seemed to always be out of reach, just slipping out of his hands like grains of sand. 

 

She had been nice. He tried not to think about it, because it hurt. But he couldn’t avoid his teammate and friend’s own wife. At the time, Jean and Logan could have never worked out; she was Slim’s dead girlfriend. 

 

Still. He longed. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he wanted Jean, or at least the closest thing to her. 

 

Maybe... He wanted Madelyne. 

 

Madelyne. 

 

_No. Maybe. Perhaps?_

 

Madelyne wasn’t Jean. The other X-Men didn’t understand, but Logan did most of all - especially after Laura. Madelyne was her own person. Even if she was a clone. 

 

She had thoughts and feelings that expanded beyond Jean’s own. Logan had loved Jean, and he understood that she was more than a carbon copy of her antecedent; 

 

which is why he saw himself as the most viable candidate to take her in. 

 

And so, Wolverine searches for the Dark Phoenix, as the beast hunts a bird. And although the beast is an experienced hunter, the bird is tricky; far more elusive than most of his prey. 

 

Still. He waits, lingering in the shadows of the wood. 

 

._—•.•—_.

 

Madelyne was so lost. 

 

After she had fled the X-Campus with the Phoenix raging inside her, she had soared through the skies like a flaming meteor - and as such, she must land eventually. 

 

She had plummeted through the wooded rough of an abandoned cabin, clearly discarded by its former owner. The shelves, surfaces, and furniture of the humble establishment were coated in a thick layer of dust, musty and dim. Electricity and water had long been removed from its appliances, so she lit the wood logs in the fireplace, crackling and blazing like Scott and her’s home in Alaska. 

 

Once. Once. Before. 

 

_Before._

 

Had there ever been a more beautiful word? 

 

The promise of life’s former simplicity, with Madelyne’s worries and concerns hardly expanding beyond what to make for dinner that night. 

 

And yet. 

 

That night, in the abandoned cabin where she laid, she cried herself to sleep. The dusty couch was water-stained with salty puddles of tears. 

 

She had no room to care. 

 

What was she going to do? She had been resurrected, flown through the sky, and crashed through the roof of an abandoned cabin within the span of 24 hours. And now she had an evil, cosmic firebird in her body, whispering cruelties and wicked thoughts in her ear. Not to mention the X-Men were hunting her, although she wasn’t extremely worried about most of them; she was more concerned about Scott, Jean, and Logan. 

 

Logan. An interesting little man. 

 

Sometimes, he was a kind man. A little gruff, and rough around the edges, but he treated the X-Men like friends and family. He felt genuine love for them, especially his younger protégés, Kitty Pryde and Jubilee. 

 

Sometimes, he was a hunter. Bloodlust seemed to send him into a berserker rage. He could rampage through an entire small country, his claws slashing through flesh like butter as crimson stained the shimmering adamantium. 

 

He could be both. 

 

Jean’s relationship with him was certainly... interesting to Madelyne. Or rather, the lack thereof. 

 

She remembered meeting him along with the other X-Men, and although it hadn’t occurred to her at the time, she was drawn to him. Perhaps because Jean had an attraction to him, although she clearly never acted on her schoolgirl crush. It was one of her more carnal desires, and of course golden-girl messiah Jean Grey would never act on such a sinful thought. She never let her lust take over. 

 

But Madelyne. She was not Jean. She was something deeper - her darker desires, her primal rage, her sensual lust, her thirst for blood. The Goblyn Queen and Marvel Girl were not one and the same, and neither were Madelyne Pryor and Jean Grey. 

 

Madelyne had a vested interest in the Wolverine. He was the best there was at we did, wasn’t he? A valuable asset, if he was on her side. And he had killed Jean as the Phoenix before; that she knew. He was not the be underestimated. 

 

But neither was Madelyne. 

 

She would root out his weaknesses and all of his desires when he came for her. She knew he would come for her. 

 

Wolverines are predators; they are hunters. He was half-man, half-beast. 

 

Although Madelyne’s feeble human mind was too distraught about her current situation, the Phoenix was evil. It awaited Logan’s arrival. It would not let her live out her days on the run, a simple facsimile to Jean Grey. 

 

_**Let the hunt begin, Wolverine...** _


	4. chapter IV - the lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madelyne and Jean may share the same DNA, but they are vastly different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know how emo this fic is gonna be, I wrote this while listening to “going under” by evanescence

Tracking someone’s scent is a tedious task, even after your senses have already latched onto their distinct fragrance. Combining tracking with erratic movement, other scents tugging at the back of your mind, and all the damn  _traveling_ you have to do to track someone down, it’s not one of Logan’s favorite tasks. If there was someone else on the X-Men who wanted to and was able to do it, he’d be sitting pretty right now with a beer in his hand. Maybe beating up some punks in a hole-in-the-wall bar. 

 

But no. Here he is. Following the path of Madelyne Pryor’s feminine scent. It’s dispersed in a dark forest several miles from the X-Mansion. Her human scent - pine needles, vanilla, and snow-dusted hollyberry - is drowned in a musk of fire and charcoal. The mark of the Phoenix; scorching a once-innocent soul with an indelible influence. 

 

First corrupted by S’ym and tricked by N’astirh, Madelyne’s soul was cleansed of discord once she died; however, the Phoenix Force is just another name she can add to the list of evil influences possessing her. 

 

Logan feels bad for her. But that’s not going to make him pull his punches any more. 

 

As he traverses deeper into the wooded area, he gets a whiff of burnt wood. He brushes his fingertips heedlessly over the pine tree closest to him, collecting a mass of tree sap and a sable, powdery substance. 

 

He grimaces before giving it a sniff. 

 

The pine sap almost overpowers it, but the musk is unmistakable - the scorching scent of blazes and burnt tree bark. Madelyne is nearby. The  _Phoenix_ is nearby. 

 

“I’m comin’, darlin’,” he murmurs ominously, discarding to sticky substance on his X-Men uniform glove. 

 

The hunt is on. 

 

The beast is a diligent hunter, willful and powerful. His agility, strength, and brute force are all formidable attributes; but his prey is not so easily defeated. 

 

The bird is quick, and tricky, flitting between the shadows of the trees. Their sharp wit allows it to elude the beast, but for how long is unknown. 

 

It is true that the beast may eventually slaughter the bird, leaving its sunset-orange wings splattered with crimson blood. But this bird is different, not like a delicate dove. 

 

Perhaps it it will rise again from the ashes in a blaze of glory and chaos, even more powerful than before. Intimidating even to such a hulking beast. 

 

Only time will tell, indeed. 

 

Logan’s senses do not fail him. He knows Madelyne is getting closer and closer to him. He’d rather just subdue her and let the X-Men do whatever they gotta do, but if they so require, he will not hesitate to unleash a primal fury. 

 

“Gotcha, darlin’,” he whispers to himself when he stumbles across a large cabin, clearly decrepit and abandoned for several years by its previous owner. On its own, it wouldn’t be of much note. 

 

However, the smoking hole in its roof is very distinct. 

 

He cautiously presses open its doors, hearing the eerie creaking of wood and the patter of footsteps across the floor. The scent of charcoal and fire is even stronger now. 

 

And whatever is the bird to do? 

 

Why, stand her ground, of course. 

 

._—•.•—_.

 

Madelyne has been crouching in this filthy hovel for several days like a madwoman, listening to the Phoenix whispering sin in her ears. Her mind is like a tempest, thoughts bouncing erratically off the sides of her head and into her chest. 

 

She cannot stop thinking of Scott and Jean and Nathan. 

 

Scott... She remembers what he did to her like it was yesterday. 

 

_“Maddie... Please stop.”_

 

_“Oh, dearheart, I’m not even close to being finished.”_

 

**_Make them burn with you, Madelyne Pryor. You spent an infinity suffering in the White Hot Room; drag them to Hell with you._ **

 

“No!” she yells, a blast of psionic energy materializing from her sudden spark of emotion. It crashes into the wooden dresser drawer in front of her, topping over the vase on its surface. It shatters into several glass shards, dispersed on the planked floor.

 

She mindlessly reaches out, picking up a handful of shattered glass. She crunches it in her fist, not even wincing. When she opens up her fist, blood coats her palm and fingertips. She drops the bloodied shards on the ground, eyes glazed-over and empty. 

 

The Phoenix hisses in delight, watching scarlet leak from her wounds. She suddenly seems to snap back into reality, letting out a horrified screech. She grabs her hand in pain, scooting backwards into the nearest wall. 

 

“God!! Why?! Fuck!” she snaps, grabbing her head in her hands. She wants to slam it into the nearest wall and let it be over. 

 

What’s the point? 

 

The X-Men are coming for her and her life’s gone to shit. She isn’t even supposed to be alive. 

 

_**Don’t be silly, Madelyne Pryor. It was fated for you to rise again from the ashes, as all Phoenixes do. I willed it so.** _

 

“Shut up shut up shut UP!” she screams, slamming her fist into the floor. 

 

**_He’s coming. Hide. Run. Go. Flee this place._ **

 

“What?” she mumbles, eyes darting around the room. It’s the same dim, dank shelter as it was before.

 

“Who is he? Why is he coming? Is he coming for me?” she asks, voice panicked and sharp. No response.

 

“Look behind ya, bub.” 


End file.
